


“come here. let me fix it.”

by clickingkeyboards



Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [4]
Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: 1930s, Canon Lesbian Character, Detectives, F/F, F/M, Realisations, Secret Relationships, fake relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickingkeyboards/pseuds/clickingkeyboards
Summary: Hazel and Alexander are going to a dance hall to investigate something and Hazel can't figure out why she's so stressed. She doesn't like Alexander like that anymore, so who does she want to impress?Canon EraWritten for the fourth prompt in the '100 ways to say "I love you"' prompt list by p0ck3tf0x on Tumblr.
Relationships: Alexander Arcady/George Mukherjee, Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Series: one hundred ways to say 'i love you' [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533164
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	“come here. let me fix it.”

“It’s not even a date!” I grumbled as I tearfully tore my jade pin out of my hair for the thousandth time, flinging it onto the bed behind me.

I was getting dressed up for a not-date because Alexander and I needed to investigate at a dance hall. Daisy and George said that us going together would be the most realistic — she said this with a knowing look in my direction, while Alexander made a comment about ‘swinging the other way’ that made George chuckle.

There was a murder at a local bar of a high-class buisnessman going there to buy a woman for a night. While we are allowed to investigate, Uncle Felix said that we must investigate from inside the house. That wasn’t good enough for Daisy and so we are splitting up to detect outside of our houses.

Alexander and I are going on a ‘date’ to a dance hall the businessman frequented.

Daisy is going to dramatically faint outside the home of the businessman’s parents and hopefully be rushed inside.

At the same time (as they are pretending they’re together at the flicks seeing Snow White), George is going to rough up his clothes (much to his distaste) and pretend to beg outside the bar the man frequented.

That’s tomorrow and a lot of what they do depends on what Alexander and I find tonight. 

* * *

The entire thing began in our ‘meeting’ in the kitchen of Uncle Felix and Aunt Lucy’s flat.

Daisy looked very disgruntled for about half of it before she snapped. “Boys!” she said in a harsh tone. “What _ ever _is the matter with you?”

“It’s nothing,” said Alexander defensively.

At the same time, George said, “Shut up.”

Daisy looked positively affronted. “I know what it is, I’m not _ blind _ . Even _ Hazel _knows.”

“Oh!” I blinked in realisation and nodded. “Yes, we figured it out ages ago. We were going to wait for you to tell us but we may as well say that we know.”

“Oh both counts,” Daisy added, blissfully unaware of the absolutely mortified Junior Pinkertons as she sorted through her papers. “Right, Hazel and Alexander, you have nothing to do so far.”

“Right,” said Alexander thickly.

“_Alex,” _said George with a strange intonation.

Daisy snorted.

I felt like I was missing out on a joke.

“Alexander and Hazel, you must put on an act. Before you leave, you’ve got to tell George to go on ahead and pull Hazel aside, and then leave after George. We are going to be pretending that Alexander asked Hazel on a date to a dance hall. Hazel, you have to pretend to be _ beside yourself _about the idea of a date until it happens.”

I nodded in understanding. “I should be literally as dramatic as physically possible for a few days? And we need to whisper to each other and then break apart very obviously whenever Uncle Felix and Aunt Lucy walk in.”

“Exactly!” cried Daisy, and I felt us sinking into the lovely moments where all we do is finish each other's thoughts and are totally on the same page. “Then, a few days before the ‘date’ happens, we have to actually tell Uncle Felix where the date is to. He won’t even be thinking that it’s the dance hall the businessman frequented if you are so absolutely beside yourself.”

“Good idea!” I said, because it absolutely is. What a brilliant idea! Daisy grabbed my hand in her excitement. “They will never think that we’re investigating because they are _ so _convinced I’m in love with Alexander. Especially if we are so suspicious before we tell him. He will be utterly convinced we are turning into silly and romantic teenagers.”

George seemed to have recovered from discovering that we had long since found out about _ him and Alexander _, and he pitched in. “Fantastic idea, Daisy,” he said, winking at us. “Put your knowledge from the Rue to good use.”

“What you’re saying is that Watson should dramatically faint like she did onto Miss Crompton?” Daisy said in a blunt tone.

“Daisy!” I said, my ears burning. “They don’t know about that!”

“Alex,” he said, tapping the table to get his attention, “You must— Oh, gosh. Alex? Hastings? Love?”

Both of them got an astonished caught-in-the-act look on their faces, guilty and blushing. Daisy waved a dismissive hand and turned to me. “You have to be _ in love _dramatic, Hazel. Squeal at the mention of his name, try and learn how to dance, obsessively dig through all your clothes.”

“That,” I said, not looking her in the eye as I thought about my crush, “Should not be too hard.”

* * *

front of the dresser in mine and Daisy’s room. I had cycled through twenty outfits and four hairstyles and nothing looked  _ right.  _ I didn’t understand why I was so upset at the time. It’s not like I wanted to impress Alexander, who is utterly gone over George.

What I did not realise is that I was dressing up for Daisy. I was waiting for Daisy to walk in and exclaim over my appearance, call me pretty, compliment my clothes and my make-up, my colouring and my hair.

Instead of walking into the scene I would have liked her to, Daisy walked into our room to see me tearful with make-up smudged every which way, my head on my hands.

“Oh, Watson!” she said, standing in the doorway for almost a minute as I began to fear I had ruined whatever it was beyond friendship that I had built with her.

However, I felt hands on my shoulder and Daisy made me look up into the mirror. “Come here. Let me fix it.”

With a nod, I surrendered control to Daisy. She squashed herself onto the seat beside me, so close she was almost on my lap. I felt myself burn because we were so close and I suddenly wished I was going out dancing with  _ her _ and… and I understood.

“There!” she said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Watson, you look beautifu— mfph!”

Whatever possessed me to do what I did, I thank it. I turned in my seat, rose onto my knees, and reaches up to cup Daisy’s face and press my lips onto hers.

At first, it was messy but then Daisy  _ kissed back,  _ her hands finding traction on my dress and mine settled at her waist.

“Hazel!” she gasped when she pulled away. “Hazel, I say!”

The moment was gone. I shrank away, drown into a ball, hot tears falling from my eyes. I had fouled up the best friendship I have ever had and Daisy would hate me forever and…

Daisy pulled me up into another kiss, this one soft and pliant and salty and damn with tears. With my lips still on hers, I moved from my chair and stood instead, on my toes to reach up to her lips. 

By the door, I heard a noise, then two gasps (one accented), then a shuffle of shoes. “We are going to leave this room,” said George, his voice smooth and unsurprised, “And when we come back in, we will be faced with two proper young ladies.”

He winked, and he and Alexander were gone from the doorway, as if they had never been there.

“Well!” said Daisy, sounding irritated. “Now I must reapply that lipstick again. Watson, you are a dreadful bother sometimes.”

* * *

I am writing this now in bed while Daisy spreads out a bun break fit for queens on the covers of her bed. We have kissed again, several more times, and I am quite content with that for now.

“Watson,” Daisy has just said, and her eyes glitter in the moonlight in a most odd and attractive way, “How do you think a kiss will differ from the others when you add both participants eating sticky sweets into the equation?”

I reach out for a mooncake. “Let us find out.”


End file.
